Relay: Eye/I On Main Street
If you’ve ever wondered who sits in the big bay window on the second floor of The Star’s office building, that would be me. It is a great perch to witness the life of the village throughout the seasons. Up in the treetops there are leaves budding, blooming, changing, and falling, sparrows peeping in, and the occasional cardinal.
While the natural world is closest at hand, the byproducts of the four-lane highway that is Main Street can be the most conspicuous. With windows open to catch the cross breeze on a warm day, the noise of the traffic alone, without the attendant beeping horns, occasional brake squeals, and muffled or shouted curses, can make phone interviews a major challenge. There are days when the wails of sirens are endless, whether they come from ambulances, fire trucks, or cop cars.
Sitting above a number of clumsy intersections also forces me to witness accidents. Fortunately, in my experience, all have been fender benders, but that blunt sound of metal-on-metal impact is never pleasant, and there is dread in looking. There are also egregious and creative violations of the posted traffic signs: left turns across three lanes, bikes on the wrong side of the street, ignorance of yield and stop signs, and — my favorite — the periodic, but regular, wrong-way ride down the one-way lane in front of Guild Hall’s entrance, a path that will someday lead to disaster.
Yet, there are the happier events to take in as well. The Memorial Day parade, the Bonac on Board to Wellness 5K. The installation and unveiling of the current season’s outdoor sculpture at Guild Hall is a process that can sometimes take days, using trucks, cranes, pulleys, and sheer brute force. This is followed by packing it up sometime between Labor Day and Columbus Day weekends.
Summer Fridays always provide an entertaining streetscape of tennis, equestrian, running, and paddleboard (fill in any other athletic pursuit here) togged individuals just off the court, horse, bay, Babette’s seat, et cetera. I see also the city folk fresh off the Jitney with their fedoras, wheelie bags, and four-inch heels mincing down the sidewalk, the Lilly-clad prepsters popping out of their Audi convertibles and ambling into the office in their espadrilles to pick up a paper.
The drop-off days for Guild Hall’s Artist Members Show and the Clothesline Art Sale always provide highlights. The events attract a steady stream of creative types, who like attention and know how to attract it, while they “catch up” in line mere hours before they see each other again at some opening, and again the next night. Yes, we are watching you.
Still, this year’s clothesline sale came with a piece of performance art that had the entire office mesmerized. A woman holding a parking space by the entrance for her friend began a series of balletic contortions and tai chi movements to signal to those eager for the spot that they were to have none of it. Most heeded her pantomimes, but some gave her an audible piece of their mind. Around this point she took to her cellphone and we provided the dialogue, the “Where are you? How much farther? I can’t keep up with this much longer. Can you believe these people?”
It is at times like these that one wants desperately to return to the calendar, article, essay, or review at hand, eager to have a clean slate or lessened load for the weekend. But, it was hard to let go of this one. My co-workers witnessing it from above waited until finally the friend’s car was in view and the parking genie gesticulated her relief, guiding the car in to the slot ground-crew style until a grateful reunion ensued. Then, they went back to their desks. I, however, kept a periodic vigil, alert to any other curiosity, one eye on the computer screen and one on the street below.
Jennifer Landes is The Star’s arts editor.